The Perfect Friend, The Worst Witch
by RooOfTwilight
Summary: Megaera S. Morrwyn can't do a spell to save her life, blows up potions just by looking at them, has a rare disease called Seeping Harriet, and is the Perfect Friend. Why? Because it's to her friends she owes it all. Set in the Marauders Era.
1. Megaera Stokke Morrwyn

_Author's Note: Yes. I know. An OC. Horror. No, really, it is. Because usually I absolutely hate, loathe and detest OC's. Especially Mary Sue ones. So please PLEASE tell me if you find my OC to be a Mary Sue, but please tell me WHY. You OC-haters should also be glad to know that my OC will have no romatic feelings for the Marauders or Snape. Or Lily, for that matter. She will have a romantic interest, but romance will not be what the story is mainly about. _

* * *

I am Megaera Stokke Morrwyn. I've always liked my name. In fact, I've always like names, period. They're your first individual marking. How complicated wouldn't life be if we were without names? Then I'd have to be all like "Hi, I am a half-Norwegian, half-English female Muggleborn witch with long brown hair and steel-grey eyes that look green when I'm crying". Instead, I can simply say _I Am Megaera Stokke Morrwyn_ and leave it at that.

Well.

Enough of my pointless ramblings (at least for today). Because today is a very special day – my first day at a school I didn't know existed full of wizards and witches I only wistfully believed in.

Commonly known as Hogwarts School For Witchcraft And Wizardry. Nice, long name. Original, too.

As stated before, I'm Megaera S. Morrwyn. My mother is Norwegian (that means she's from a land up north called Norway where there used to be Vikings), and my father is English (no explanation needed here, I assume). I lived in Norway 'til I turned seven, so I can speak Norwegian flawlessly, and English _more or less_ fluently. My accent tends to become more prominent when I'm upset or angry. I've also got a sister who is fourteen years older than me. She's married and has two children up in Norway, so I don't see them often. Probably just as well. Her husband was pretty freaked when he found out he had a witch in the family.

I was immensely relieved when the train ride was over. I ended up in a compartment with a greasy-haired, hook-nosed boy who'd scowled at me and a pretty, red-haired girl who'd introduced herself as Lily Evans and hook-nose as Severus Snape and then proceeded to bury herself in writing a letter addressed to someone called Tuney. She'd crossed out, erased and started over on so many letters, writing and finishing one took the whole train ride, so it was complete, awkward silence for god knows how many hours. When the trolley lady came, I chickened out and hadn't the guts to buy anything (I'm extremely, extremely shy), which resulted in my stomach grumbling loudly every two minutes.

'Follow me, children,' a tall woman in her forties, Professor McGonagall, ordered, leading the first years in a gigantic hall. I gulped at the sight of hundreds of faces scrutinizing us and laughing at our scared faces. Oh my god, a crowd. I wasn't good with crowds.

'Monet, Daisy!' McGonagall called, and a podgy, blonde girl walked up to be Sorted.

'SLYTHERIN!'

'Morrwyn, Megaera!'

Hey, they didn't include Stokke. Well, not unusual, foreign people usually didn't have the first idea on how to pronounce it, but still. Geeze, woman.

_A Muggleborn, eh? And – oh. Ooohhh. Very interesting. Very interesting, indeed. _

'_What?' _I thought, alarmed. _'What's interesting?'_

_You have an unusual ailment, is all._

'_Unusual? What d'you mean, unusual?'_

_Low self-esteem, not very brave, but you do have it in you. Your very loyal, which is good. You work hard at things that interest you, but you tend to ignore those that don't. Interesting mind. I think I'll say _GRYFFINDOR!

Oh. Gryffindor. The table with the lion. The House for the daring, reckless and brave. I was none of those things.

What had I gotten myself into?

After the Feast, which was delicious, I must say, I stood awkwardly in the Gryffindor Common Room for about two minutes, before hurrying up to my Dormitory.

'Megaera? Megaera Morrwyn? That's you, isn't it?'

I blink foolishly. Huh?

_Oh. _Someone is communicating with me. Must answer.

'Uh. Yeah.' I say, followed by the unattractive furious blush I can always count on.

'Lily Evans.' The girl who'd spoken, the rather pretty girl with large green eyes and dark red hair hanging like layers of silk around her oval face, introduced herself politely and with a cheerful smile. Again. She must have forgotten we spent the train ride in the same compartment. Charming.

'Hi.' I mumble, my blush darkening again. I would have liked to say more, but my automatic shyness had shut down the talkative part of my brain.

'So, I think we should all introduce ourselves,' Lily continued brightly, and I was very grateful to her for taking charge and maybe allowing me to open up a bit.

'I'll start, shall I?' She waited for us to nod before continuing.

'I'm Lily Evans, and I'm from Kent. Uh, I'm Muggleborn, so I don't know much about magic and stuff. I like to read and learn and I can't _wait _to explore the Forbidden Forrest!'

I blinked again, this time in surprise. She liked to read and learn and can't wait to explore the _Forbidden Forrest_? That was just confusing. I mean, was she a bookworm or a troublemaker?

'I'm also a Muggleborn,' a blonde girl, Mary MacDonald, injected. 'Music is my passion. I love it. And I hate Hogwarts for messing with my CD player so it doesn't work!' Mary MacDonald was short and chubby, but her eyes held an unmistakable zeal.

'Your turn, Adanna.' Lily proclaimed, nodding to the pretty dark-skinned girl lounging on the bed above mine.

'I am Adanna Cochelle,' Adanna said in a velvety voice. 'My family is originally from Nigeria, but we moved here before I was born. I like reading, and I also like my rat Marjani –'

'Oh my god! You have a pet? I _love _animals! Although I prefer magical ones, personally, I've got two cats, an owl and a rat as well! Is your rat female? Mine's not. We could mate them! That _would _be fun, wouldn't it? Oh! I'm so _rude_! I'm Ailill Paddy, from Ireland, and I simply _love _animals! Ha! I've said that already, haven't I? Silly of me!'

The girl who'd said all this, my last House mate, was met by three unblinking pair of eyes.

Jeeze. What the hell?

Adanna Cochelle wrinkled her nose, being interrupted was apparently not a thing she experienced often.

'… Hi, Ailill,' Lily said finally.

Ailill beamed so brightly I vaguely wondered if I should have brought sunglasses after all.

And that was my House dorm mates. Lily eventually gave up on getting through my shyness, and focused her attention on Adanna and Ailill.

I felt like crying when we finally crept into our beds. I hated myself for not forcing myself to talk, to speak, to _communicate_. It couldn't be that hard, surely. I had friends back home. I certainly hadn't gotten them by shutting myself off from the outside world.

But I knew I wasn't about to change.

I was just _too _shy.

Hate coursed through my veins, and for the first time in my life I was so angry at myself I wanted to scream.

The next two weeks came and went without much happening. I still hadn't managed to force my shyness into oblivion, but at least I could now accumulate a sentence without someone being able to roast the entire Hogwarts feast on my cheeks. That was only with my fellow Gryffindor year-mates. The female ones.

Yes.

I regret saying I am one of those people not exactly used to communicating with the opposite sex. Embarrassing, isn't it? I've always rolled my eyes at those ignorant people ranting about how males and females are genetically unable to be _just friends_. I believe strongly in that possibility. And I intended to get myself a male friend and prove it, too.

_Yeah_. Like _that'll _ever happen.

I slouched into the Great Hall, my mood about as black as James Potter's hair. And about as wild, too.

Har har.

I've just discovered that I suck at all my classes. Well, to be fair I'm not as bad as some, and I will admit I've got a knack for History of Magic (what? It's interesting!), but apart from that I can barely seem to control my magic, and I always forget how many minutes my potion has been simmering.

I am a disaster.

It was only yesterday I was so nervous about attempting to transfigure my matchstick into a needle in front of Lily, who'd managed it on her third try, that I accidentally blew up Peter Pettigrew's matchstick instead.

At least I thought I did it. No one else did, luckily, but Professor McGonagall gave me a long look and told me she wanted to talk to me after class.

'Ms Morrwyn,' she'd said, sternly. 'You have to get a better hold of your magic. You can't let it – _seep _out of you like that! It's a danger hazard to you and people around you. Do I make myself clear?'

I'd nodded, petrified, ashamed and thoroughly chastised. I'd learned from Professor Flitwick's Charms class that when a wizard or a witch did magic, they did so by forcing their magic down their wand-arm and out of their wand-tip without this registering. For some it came more natural than for others, so that was why some couldn't do a spell straight away.

Hah.

I couldn't do the simplest thing to save my life. And I didn't particularly want to listen to my dorm-mates talk about their latest triumphs, either.

So I'd taken to midnight strolls along the Black Lake. Totally illegal, of course, but I hadn't been caught yet, and it helped me survive the next day of humiliation and solitude.

I sorely needed a midnight walk tonight. It was the third time I'd blown up a potion in class, and when Professor Kettleburn told us to pair up in Care of Magical Creatures, no one wanted to go near me.

So I ended up being paired with some scowling Hufflepuff girl, who asked rather snottily if I wasn't the one who couldn't even do a proper Wingardium Leviosa.

I had blushed and laughed awkwardly.

She'd taken that as a yes, and continued her scowling.

* * *

_Please tell me if you find any grammatical errors, or anything else worth criticising. Cronstructive criticism, mind._

_- Roo. _


	2. Midnight Stroll and a Discovery

_Author's Note: For those of you who realised that my OC and me are both half-norwegian, and for those of you who had oh-christ-NO-a-self-insert alarms ringing off in your heads, I'd like to explain. I wanted my OC to be a "halfbreed" (Ha. Ha.), and since I can only, as of now, speak Norwegian and English, I felt it stupid to get my OC to be, say, half-Japanese (though that would have been preferred). So, no, it is NOT a self-insert. So I don't want any flamings regarding that, because I'm sure there are other, more annoying things to flame. (Ha. Ha.)_

* * *

'Megaera? The hell are you goin'?' Lily asked fuzzily from under her covers that night. 

I jumped, blushed and spun around to face her, guiltily.

'I – er, I just need some… air… Uh…' I stumbled over the words, very aware of the fact that my accent was undoubtedly blazing through my words like acid.

'Oh. Air. Yes. Cool…' Lily was already succumbing to dreamland. Just as I snuck down the stairs, I heard her jerk and gasp in surprise. '_Air_? Megaera?'

But I was already gone.

The cool wind felt soothing on my hot skin, and I was thankful that the darkness hid my rapidly falling tears from view.

Disaster.

Catastrophe.

_The worst witch ever to enter Hogwarts._

Yeah, that had to be me. Just my luck.

A howl ripped through the night, and I jumped about a metre into the air, stiffening in fright.

What the _hell_ was that!

Oh my god.

Oh my _freaking _god.

A werewolf. I just knew it was a werewolf. Of course, I'd never believed in werewolves, but after I'd opened my Hogwarts letter, I felt sure I was never going to dismiss anything as impossible ever again.

And Professor Dumbledore had said something about the Forbidden Forest being full of dangers. Christ. As if my life wasn't bad enough. Now I was going to get mauled/killed/bitten by a werewolf.

It was only after this internal dialogue I realised that no werewolves had jumped me yet.

Good sign.

I should probably be pelting like a mad thing for the Castle about now, but I didn't want to face the indoors yet. Besides, no werewolves was a good thing. Maybe I'd just imagined it all.

_Aooooh! _

…

Or maybe not.

But anyway, I decided to do some exploring. My life couldn't get any worse, after all. And the howls seemed to have stayed at roughly the same place for some time now.

Maybe Hagrid was attempting to keep a werewolf as a pet. But what would he do when the lycanthrope was in his/her human form?

I crept through the night, feeling stupid for my hunched pose. Like I was some poor parody of James Bond or something.

With the Agent 007 theme song trilling through my head, I gradually came to the decision that the howls were coming from a _tree_.

Well, flipping heck. A tree? A _howling _tree? Surely not. My breath caught in my throat as I realised someone were crouching a safe distance away from said tree. Someone in white. It looked suspiciously like Madam Pomfrey.

Sudden suspicion was sneaking over me. The adrenaline from the panic must have given my brain a surge of over-natural intelligence, because it was all of a sudden making sense now.

Howls from under a tree.

A tree located in the Hogwarts grounds.

Said tree having the school nurse sitting guard.

Oh my god. That had to mean a student was a werewolf. Wow. Now _that _was interesting.

'Hello? You there!' Madam Pomfrey's abrupt yell startled me into a squeaky 'yes!'. The young nurse was moving towards me with surprising speed. I wondered if I should make a run for it.

No, best not to. It might anger the nurse, and then she'd refuse to heal me if I ever stumbled upon a loose werewolf.

'Well, who do we have here? I could have you expelled for this! Sneaking around illegally! Or were you following you Mr Lupin here?'

'Lupin?' I gasped. '_Remus _Lupin?' Oh man. Remus Lupin, my polite year-mate was a _werewolf_?! Wow. Now that certainly spiced things up a little.

Madam Pomfrey winced. 'Y-You didn't know?'

'Of course I didn't! What kind of person do you think I am? _Sneaking _after a fellow student! The very idea!' The shock and terror had shaken me into a kind of hysterical, sarcastic frenzy that I was sure I'd be regretting in the morning. 'I was just having a midnight walk! To try and clear my head! You understand that, right? It's not easy being a Muggleborn!' I gave her my best 'all-grown-ups-love-me-and-you-do-too' look. It was quite a good look, if I say so myself.

Another howl ripped through the tension-filled air like a knife through butter.

Madam Pomfrey barely twitched, but I jumped about ninety metres in the air.

'Get back to your dormitory,' the nurse said sternly, brandishing her finger about a millimetre from my nose. 'And hurry. Don't let Filtch catch you. You're in serious enough trouble already. You will speak to Headmaster Dumbledore in the morning. Now don't you dare tell _anyone _about this.'

I shook my head numbly. Tell anyone? Why ever not? Surely being a werewolf wasn't a crime?

Madam Pomfrey must have seen the perplexed expression on my face, because she sighed and said in clipper tones: 'Not everyone are as ready to accept werewolves into our society as you apparently are, Ms Morrwyn. Have you never heard the term _"filthy half-breed"_?'

'…er, no.'

'Oh,' she looked surprised. 'Well, I suppose Muggleborns can't be expected to know this two weeks after discovering their magical abilities. Run along, now. Hurry.'

'Madam Pomfrey… should I wait up for Remus?'

'No. You'll talk with him, too, tomorrow when you speak to Dumbledore. Now _go_.'

I did.

I thought I had reached safety when I slipped through the portrait hole undetected (well, the Fat Lady wasn't pleased, to say the least. I'd spent at least fifteen minutes trying to get her to open the damn portrait.).

But as fate would have it, two very suspicious black-haired boys were sitting on the couch, scowling at me.

'Where have you _been_?' James Potter, a middle-height boy with messy hair and hazel eyes demanded in an ominous tone. He reminded me forcefully of a mafia gang leader.

My Inner Megaera was all 'yeah, like I'll tell the likes of _you_. I don't even know you! So back off, mafia boy!'.

_I _was more 'erm, uh, I've been for a, eh, walk. That's not illegal, is it?'. Lame. Lame, lame, lame. Stupid, even.

But luckily also true.

Sirius Black, a rather handsome but haughty looking boy, scowled at me, and I blushed and flinched.

I didn't like feeling disliked. I don't know why, it just really bothered me when people I didn't even know looked at me like I was their mortal enemy or something.

James sighed. 'I can see you're not going to talk. But trust me. We will figure out why you and that Remus Lupin suddenly disappeared. Oh yes, we will indeed.' He looked a bit like he'd burst into maniac "muhaha"'s any second now, but Sirius rolled his eyes and elbowed him.

'Stop being a drama queen, James.'

'Drama queen? _Moi_?'

Sirius huffed and pulled James to his feet. With a nod at me, and a ''Night, Morrwyn' they went up to their Dormitory again.

I sighed, and leaned back against the chair I'd sat down in, only to jump up at the sound of scuffling feet.

'Megaera? What're you doing here?'

It was Lily, her dark red hair nearly as messy as James'. She looked dishevelled and very tired.

'Oh! I, um, I'm just coming up now. Couldn't sleep.'

Lily nodded and motioned for me to follow her up to bed again. I hurried after her, but I didn't manage to fall asleep.

'Ms Morrwyn,' Professor McGonagall said the next morning. I'd just dragged myself to the Great Hall for some spirit-lifting breakfast when she'd pounced on me much like James and Sirius had when I'd slouched down the dormitory stairs. I'd hastily excused myself from the boys, but I had a feeling that wouldn't do with a Professor. 'Please follow me.'

Oh hell. This was it. I was going to get expelled. Or maybe they'd have to kill me. Maybe it was illegal to know about werewolves? Oh hell, oh hell, oh hell – no. That was stupid. Killed for something as trivial as that? Please.

With that reassuring thought firmly in mind, I followed McGonagall to the Headmaster's office.

'Ah, Ms Stokke Morrwyn,' Professor Dumbledore said lightly, peering at me over his half-moon spectacles. Wow. He pronounced my Norwegian name, "Stokke", correctly. Impressive.

Remus Lupin was sitting in a chair, hunched over and pale and sickly. He didn't look up when I sat beside him. 'You appear to have… _stumbled upon_ young Mr Lupin here in his lupine form.'

McGonagall snorted, and I had a horrible feeling I had about a years worth of detention to look forward to if I wasn't expelled. Or killed.

'Y-Yes, sir.' I squeaked, sneaking a sideways glance at Remus. It surprised me to notice he looked… ashamed? Embarrassed? _Scared_?

Something clicked.

Maybe people had prejudices against werewolves! Oh god, I'd been stupid not to realise it before. 'Please, sir,' I added in a meek tone, blushing furiously. Like always. 'I – I don't really understand what a werewolf is. I mean, it's a human that transforms into a wolf once a month, right? At the full moon?'

'That is correct.'

'Oh. Er. Cool.' I blushed again, lost for words.

Remus' gaze snapped up to meet mine. 'Cool?' he repeated in a hoarse whisper. 'You don't hate me?'

I blinked. 'Hate you?'

'Yeah. You know, 'cause I'm a disgusting half-breed.'

'Erm. No. Can't say I find that a good enough reason to hate anyone. Sorry.'

Remus cracked a smile, and Dumbledore nodded, a proud twinkle in his eyes. 'Well said, Ms Stokke Morrwyn. Well said indeed.'

I laughed nervously, hating being in the centre of attention when I was making such a fool of myself.

'But I must ask you not to tell anyone of your discovery. Not everyone are as unbiased as you, my dear. Do you understand?' Dumbledore asked, suddenly sombre.

I nodded hastily. 'I won't tell a soul.' I promised, flashing a smile in Remus' direction. No need to let such a great opportunity to gain a friend go past.

In the end I had to swear not to tell anyone, but it was alright. Because Remus asked me whether I needed help with my Charms homework (we had to practice this Alohomora spell).

'Uh. Yeah,' I'd said, blushing for the nth time today. 'But I'm _really _bad at Charms. You have been warned.'

Remus gave a soft laugh. 'Thanks for the warning, but I think we'll be alright.'

As it turned out, he had never been so wrong in his whole life.

My wand blew up. No. Not kidding. How embarrassing is this?!

Okay, here's the story:

Remus and I had found a conveniently abandoned classroom to practice our spells in.

Remus had been all '_Alohomora_!' and whoopee, the door had sprung open.

_I'd _been all '_Alohomora_!' and _BANG! _the door blasted off its hinges and my hand was severely burned as my wand exploded.

'Flipping heck! Are you alright?!' Remus had cried, running forward and grabbing my hand.

'No!' I'd yelled, eloquent as always. 'Hospital Wing!'

So now I was in the Hospital Wing, near tears in humiliation. And you know what'll make my world _even brighter_? Tomorrow is our first day of _Flying Lessons_.

Kill. Me. Now.

At least this whole wand explosion thing has brought me closer to one Remus Lupin. Now I don't have to go everywhere alone! Whoopee!

Right now he was sitting beside me on a bed, where we were watching Madame Pomfrey healing my poor blistered hand.

'Now, how did this happen?' The nurse asked sternly, the tone of her voice clearly indicating that she suspected some kind of illicit behaviour.

I hastily explained that my wand had mysteriously and without any misuse whatsoever exploded.

'Oh, it did so of its own accord, then, did it?' Pomfrey had remarked acidly.

'Yeah. I mean, _no_! It – it just _did_!' I had squeaked, panicked.

Madame Pomfrey hadn't said anything more, but her silence said it all, really.

Another great day in my life, now thankfully over.

* * *

_Yup, chapter two is now up. Don't expect the next update to come quite as fast, though. I'd already written the two first chapters, so I figured I'd just post them. _

_I love reviewers... 3 (Not hinting at anything here. No. Not at all)_

_- Roo._


	3. God, The Catastrophe Needs a Break

_Author's Note: Hiya! Chapter three. Enjoy. (No, no weird questions or long rants today-)_

* * *

Give me a _break_, God. Not that I believe in God, but you never know. He could be up there. What had I done to deserve this?

Nothing, that's what.

I mean, I'm a freaking eleven year old _Muggleborn_, for crying out loud! It's not like I have parents who can give me advice, and my only wizard friend seems to be labouring under the delusion that my exploding wand was just a one-time thing.

The Sorting Hat had said something about an _ailment_. Was this it?

The Worst Witch Syndrome?

I reluctantly surfaced from my ponderings and dragged myself out of bed. Today was the day of flying lessons. It was a dreaded day.

For me.

Not for my dorm-mates, apparently.

'Good morning, Megaera!' Ailill Paddy called cheerfully in my direction as she exited the bathroom. 'Flying lessons today, eh? Personally, I can't wait. Of course, Pops taught me how to fly when I was practically a baby, but even so, it gives you such a _thrill_, doesn't it, being up there in the air, free as a bird? Oh, silly me, you wouldn't know, being a Muggleborn and all. I'm simply a bit tired, still. Take no notice of me, none at all!'

I wasn't planning to, honey. What a weirdo.

In the shower I attempted to drown away my anxiety, but it didn't work. And whilst dressing, I came to the realization that Remus and I were kind of, maybe, sort of friends now. Was he waiting for me in the Common Room? If he wasn't there, should _I _wait for him?

What if he'd gone down to breakfast already?

Maybe we weren't friends, and it was all just a figment of my imagination. I mean, he only helped me with my Charms homework. (Which reminded me that Olivander was coming to Hogwarts at noon to give me a new wand).

After quickly dressing, combing my hair and taking all similar necessary actions, I slunk down to the Common Room. After letting my eyes sweep the entire place three times, I realised Remus wasn't there. Well, damn. What was I supposed to do now? Wait? No, that would make me look like I was desperate for a friend.

Which I was. No need to conceal reality here.

But desperation was not something wanted in a friend. Desperate, friend-lacking people tended to try to be friends with anyone, even if they didn't particularly like said someone. I wouldn't want Remus to think I didn't _like _him.

Oh god. Am I actually standing here debating whether or not I should wait around, and risk missing breakfast, for some freaking half-wolf _boy_?

'Megaera?'

With a rather undignified squeak, I jumped and spun around. There, in all his paleness and bruised-ness, stood Remus Lupin. 'Oh! Hi, er, Remus,' I stumbled slightly over his name, since it was such an unusual one, and not one I'd uttered often. 'Well, breakfast?' I added in an attempt to be cheery and outgoing. I'm afraid I failed. It came out more like a demand, as if I was saying 'my GOD Remus, why did you stop me in my quest for food?!'.

'Oh, yeah. Yeah, sure.' He said hurriedly, no doubt intimidated by my stupid-ness.

'So, I've noticed you have an accent?' The sandy-haired boy prompted as we exited the portrait hole.

'Oh, yeah, I'm originally from Norway,' I answered, jumping at this chance to break through my shyness.

'Oh, _Norway_. I've heard polar bears roam the streets over there. They don't, do they?'

I gave him a Look. 'God, no. There aren't any polar bears in Norway. That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard.' Realising I just called my maybe-sort-of-friend stupid, I hurriedly added, 'but a mistake commonly made. By many. Not stupid, just, eh, ignorance.' I wasn't exactly sure how many actually made this mistake, but we were only eleven after all.

Breakfast came and went, though the added feeling of sated hunger did nothing to diminish my steadily growing sense of panic.

In about five minutes I was going to _fly _in the _air _on a _twig_. Excuse me for not, pardon the pun, flying through the roof in joy.

Remus looked like he was quite looking forward to it. His father was a wizard, apparently, so he knew a bit about flying. When I asked how it was possible to keep your balance astride a one-inch thick piece of timber, he just laughed and began to babble about Sticking Charms and Balancing Spells.

The sun was out, spilling its rays of sunlight onto the brown and yellow leaves, and glinting off the Black Lake, making the grounds look almost, well, magical. The air was fresh and crisp, and the temperature wasn't that bad either. All in all it would have been a nice morning, if it weren't for the flying lessons. There came Madam Hooch, the crazy old hawk, levitating fifty-odd brooms in the air before her.

I stood nervously between Remus and Ailill Paddy, who'd been chattering non-stop since she'd spotted me. She was also, I noticed, sporting a head-band reading _Chudley Cannons for the Championship_. This had attracted many a snort and eye rolls, but I decided I'd ask Remus, my local wizard-expert, about it later.

'Alright children!' Madam Hooch called in a creepily cheerful voice. 'The day you've all been undoubtedly waiting for has come!'

Several agreeing cries and whoops were heard. I resisted the urge to groan. Were everyone of wizard blood crazy sport-fanatics?

'Do any of you muggleborns have any questions?' God, no. Like I wanted to know _more _about such a godforsaken, pointless way of travelling. 'I'd be happy to answer them before the class begins.' Several of the Slytherins, who we were taking the class with, gave moans of annoyance. Glancing over to where they were standing in a huddle, I noticed Sirius Black and a greasy-haired Slytherin boy scowling at each other. I had learned from Adanna Cochelle, Gryffindor's resident pure-blood, that the Black's were a very proud and also rather dark pure-blood family, so I guessed the two knew each other. They certainly _looked _the part of mortal enemies.

When Madam Hooch had finished handing out the brooms (and they really were just twiggy old brooms. _So _weird.), she made us lay them on the ground in front of us and try to get them to rise into our hands.

'Up, ye prettyeth oldeth thingeth!' Ailill cried, and to everyone's surprise (especially those not a Gryffindor first-year girl) the broom rose into her hand quite easily.

Soon the majority of people had managed to somehow coerce their brooms into their hands – I noticed Lily having some initial problem, but when the broom finally met her hand, she gave a little squeal of delight.

'_Up, goddamn you_!'

Yeah, that was me. I wasn't so lucky. The stupid thing just wouldn't budge! '_Uuup_!' Finally, the broom gave a shudder and, haltingly, rose a few inches of the ground. With a furtive glance around, to make sure no one was watching me, I swept down and grabbed it. It had gone a bit off the ground, which was as much as I could hope for, I figured.

'Everyone mount up!' Hooch called happily. I could see she was in her element, teaching scrawny first-years to ride twigs.

We mounted, some of us more eager than others.

'When I blow the whistle, you'll all rise gently a few feet, can you do that? Of course you can! One, two, three…' Hooch blew the whistle. I did my best to imitate Remus, and kicked off.

Slowly, falteringly, I floated from the ground.

'Good, now come back down again!'

I leaned forward… and slipped off the tip of my broom and crashed to the ground. Okay. Ouch. Embarrassing.

Everyone, even Lily and Remus (the traitor), laughed. Or, muffled and apologetic chuckles in Remus' case. He bent down and hoisted me off the ground with considerable ease, considering the fact that we were the same height (I'd always been rather tall for my age) and about the same weight (I think).

I swallowed harshly, blinking away the hot tears prickling in my eyes. It wouldn't do to cry over such a silly thing as falling off a broom. It was my first time, after all.

After flying lessons (a most gruelling experience that I will always keep inside the place in my heart labelled 'HATE!!'), I muttered a quick 'I'll catch up, see ya' to Remus before turning on my heels and making a run for it towards the Black Lake.

He called my name, asked me to stop, but I didn't, and in the end he started jogging towards the Castle and our next class. I felt bad for ignoring him, but I needed to time alone to wallow in self-pity before facing the rest of the day. Crouching down, I swished my finger around in the cold water, watching dully as ripples expanded along the blank surface. Then something caught my eye.

The Forbidden Forest.

Now, I'm not suicidal, but when you're sad you do tend to ignore those warning bells yelling '**DANGER! DANGER! ABORT!!**' in your head, so I decided to take a stroll in the Forbidden Forest. It could be fun. I just wouldn't go to _far _into the forest (I had heard this rumour about giant spiders, and wasn't very keen on verifying it).

Yes, that had been my initial plan. Wander around the forest, poke a few trees, smell a few flowers, admire mother nature at her best, and so on and so forth.

Instead I found myself crouching on the forest floor, crying. Well, not so much crying as sitting there with silent tears (and the occasional shudder) running down my face, pitying myself. I was good at the pitying thing.

Then I heard leaves rustling and branches snapping. Inner Megaera helpfully told me that this meant someone was coming. I was caught between freezing, attempting to hide behind a tree ('Why don't you try hiding under a flower while you're at it,' Inner Megaera said acidly) or making a run for it. I made to stand up and run, then thought better of it and turned to hide behind a tree, then decided to just sit down again and hope they'd go another way and _crashOWFREAKINGHELL_ I tumbled to the ground in an undignified heap.

'Hello? Hey, I think someone's here,' a voice said, and I heard two pairs of feet hurrying towards my clump of trees.

Where I was currently lying in an incredibly awkward position.

With the speed and agility usually reserved for turtles and snails, I scrambled to my feet, managing to stain my uniform skirt and scrape my knee in the process. But finally I was back on my own to feet, attempting to straighten my shirt, pull out twigs and grass from my hair and dry my eyes at the same time. It was some pretty impressive multitasking.

Then someone said '_Morrwyn_?!' in the most incredulous and disbelieving tone known to mankind, and I spun around, nearly losing my footing and already spluttering out some form of explanation.

'Erm, oh my god, you see, I was just – studying the, eh, _woodland _and I know I'm supposed to be at Charms, but I – oh. It's you. I mean – uh –'

It was Potter and Black. They were staring at me as if they expected the Apocalypse to commence any second. 'Morrwyn,' Potter said finally. 'What the _hell _are _you _doing here?'

I blinked. 'What? This isn't a restricted area, is it? The Potter and Black Only Spot?' There. I did it again. I had this horrible habit of becoming unnecessarily rude when I was nervous or unsure.

'Why aren't you in class?' Black demanded, a rather stern, fathering tone in his voice. 'I mean, it's normal for James and I to shirk class, but _you_?'

I sighed and glanced around. No escape this time. 'I just needed some time to sulk.' I explained dully, hoping they'd understand and walk away. No such luck.

'Sulk? Whatever for? Who'd want to _sulk _after flying lessons?' Potter's eyebrows were in danger of disappearing into his messy hair.

I stared at him. And stared. And stared. Until I remembered that he was from a pure-blood family, and thus probably familiar with the horror that was flying. 'I hate flying lessons. I hate broomsticks. I hate this _school_, no I don't, it's wonderful and magical, and I _hate magic_! No I don't! I don't know!' I was rambling now, hysterically gasping for air as fresh tears poured from my eyes. 'I'm just a disaster at _everything_! I'm like a freak force of nature! The Mr Bean of magic! I, I just _want to be normal_!' I had moved from rambling to howling, and one part of my brain, Inner Megaera I suspected, was yelling at me to shut the hell up.

'Woah, okay, okay! Calm down!' The two boys were looking rather freaked out, carefully edging towards me and still keeping a safe distance.

I shut the hell up.

We stood in silence for a long and awkward time, only interrupted by my soft hiccoughs.

'Erm. I can help you with you're flying. If you want.' Potter ventured at last. Something told me he only offered to try and placate the crazy crying girl, but I was touched anyway.

'No,' I sniffed. 'It's okay. Sorry for blowing up on you. Ha. _Flaut_ (Embarrassing).'

'Seriously though. How can you hate flying, when you have to fly to play Quidditch?'

I blinked curiously at him. 'Quidditch?' I echoed, tasting the foreign word on my tongue.

James stared. '_You don't know what Quidditch is_?!'

'Erm. No?'

'_Oh my god you have problems_!'

* * *

_So, now we know that Megaera has problems. What will James do about them? Can anyone guess? -_


	4. Quidditch for Dummies and Tutoring

_Author's Note : A bit of a delay between Chapter 3 and 4, but I've got exams coming up, adding to a life full of stress, so I'm generally nervous and pressed for time. Hey, at least I'm not putting it on hiatus. Until next time, then! Much love 3_

* * *

Messy-haired James Potter strode forward determinedly and grabbed my shoulders, scowling at me. 'You need help, Morrwyn,' he said in a tone one might use when talking to a suicidal fourteen-year-old. 'I will help you.'

I knew he meant well, but getting help from someone who'd been at the school for about two months and already had the reputation of a major mischief-maker somewhat alarmed me.

'You will come with us to lunch. I will explain Quidditch. We will play Quidditch tomorrow after classes are done.'

'Can't.' I blurted, brain reacting to his last sentence. 'Professor Binns wanted to talk to me after we finish Herbology. He said it might take a while.'

'_Did_ he.' James frowned, as if a professor had no right taking up a students time.

'How 'bout after?' Sirius suggested, walking forward and gently prying James' fingers off my shoulders. I gave him a thankful smile.

'Oh, err, okay. I can bring Remus along, right? I mean, we usually do homework together after classes, and –'

'Yes, bring along Lupin! He could do with some fresh air and a bit of Quidditch spirit, the peaky boy!' James declared dramatically, swiping his hand through the air and accidentally clocking Sirius on the nose.

We made our way towards the castle, the two black-haired boys squabbling cheerfully.

-----

'Professor Binns?' I asked tentatively, peering into his office. The ghost was hovering in front of his desk, brushing up on his goblin knowledge by the look of the book he was reading. 'Professor Binns?' I repeated, a little louder.

He turned, confused. We stared at each other for a few seconds, and when he still didn't show any sign of recognition, I prompted: 'You, er, wanted to see me? Megaera Morrwyn…?'

'Oh, yes, quite, quite. Come in, Morrison.'

Ignoring the 'Morrison', I stepped into his dusty office, and gave a start as I recognised the podgy form of Peter Pettigrew standing a few feet from the professor.

'Oh, hi…' I said hurriedly, blushing again, this time more out of surprise than anything.

'Hey…' he replied dully, red adorning his cheeks as well.

'So, what did you want to talk about…?' I encouraged Professor Binns, raising my eyebrows. This ghost needed all the prompting he could get.

'Ah, yes. Yes, quite. Now, Morgan – '

'Morrwyn,' I said automatically.

'Yes, yes. You seem to grasp our current subject, trolls, quite firmly. As expected, you are a bright child, by the sound of it…'

I wondered where that sound had come from. Certainly not one of my other professors.

'… Young Peterson here seems to have some problems with understanding the nature of trolls. He's lousy, lazy and doesn't get anything, actually.'

Poor Peter gave a spluttering sound. '_Wow,_' Inner Megaera marvelled. '_A ghost after my own taste. Quite to the point._'

'So I wondered if you, miss Morrwyn, would be so kind as to give him a little tutoring…?'

My initial answer was _no, _god _no, I already have enough on my plate_, but then I saw the desolate look on his face, the embarrassment, and I realised that if I didn't do it, one of the Ravenclaws would probably be appointed, someone not quite as inclined to being supportive and non-teasing. Couldn't let a fellow loser down, could I?

So I sighed, mentally slapped myself, and agreed.

'Good! That's decided, then. Why don't you start at seven o'clock in your common room? Or maybe the library?'

'The library,' I muttered, the prospect of today being a relaxing day (after the ordeal of Quidditch, anyway) fading and being replaced by broom-accidents and history-hating chubby boys.

Oh, the joy.

After talking to Professor Binns, I wondered for half a second what to do when I found myself standing awkwardly in the hallway with Peter. As far as I knew, he didn't have a horde of friends either, though I had seen him talking to a first-year Hufflepuff a few days ago. I couldn't just leave him, could I?

'_Of course you can_!' Inner Megaera snapped immediately. '_Smile at him, turn and _walk away!'

'Well, see you around seven, then. At the library, okay? Bring your homework!' I managed in a cheerful tone, giving the boy a bright smile before flouncing down to the Great Hall to meet up with Remus.

I met up with Remus, groaned, grabbed his arm and walked back towards Professor Binns' office.

'Peter! Wait a second!' I called upon seeing the brown-haired boy.

Yeah, it was my guilty conscience playing up again. Peter turned, surprised, as a very confused Remus and a certain brunette (me) caught up with him.

'We're going to go down to the flying fields now, to meet James and Sirius for a quick 101 on how to play Quidditch. Want to come?' I asked, slightly breathless after running up and down the corridors.

'James and Sirius? Quidditch?' Remus echoed, shocked. 'I thought we were going to do our homework…'

'Well, Remus m'dear, _you_ can to do that in some nice, fresh air. I, on the other hand, have been shanghaied into learning Quidditch by a certain messy haired troublemaker. You're free to come as well, Peter. You can look through your homework and figure out what you don't understand.'

Peter nodded, a strange mix of utter amazement and something akin to admiration shining in his eyes.

So that's how I ended up spending the rest of the day with the Gryffindor first-year boys.

James was quite good at teaching Quidditch, his enthusiasm making up for his somewhat short temper. 'C'mon Meggie!' He bellowed, zipping around me in neat circles. 'Throw the Quaffle! _Throw it_!'

I threw it. I missed. I nearly fell off my broom.

And down below, I was sure I recognized Sirius' bark-like laugh.

Still, I got the distinct feeling a friendship was being forged, somewhere in-between my embarrassment, James' exasperation and Sirius and Remus' amusement.

Oh, and Peter as well. He had flipped through his homework the first five minutes, but then switched to watching James whiz around the Quidditch field like an eagle. I had to admit it was pretty amazing to watch.

'Okay, Peter. Tell me what you don't understand.'

'Uh, everything?'

'Okay, Peter. You can't define "everything", I suppose?'

'Uh, well, the bit about the trolls… and, er, the trolls… yeah…'

Seeing as the whole chapter generally was about "the trolls… and, er, the trolls", this didn't so much define the problem as enhance it.

'… okay, Peter. I'll just tell you about the trolls the way I understood the chapter, then…'

And that was how Peter wiggled his way into me and Remus' little group.

------

The next day I had woken up early, for some unknown reason, so when I got down to the common room, I was somewhat surprised to see James and Sirius bending over a large piece of parchment and scribbling away, occasionally tapping the paper with their wands.

'Er… hello?'

Never in my life had I seen someone hide something as fast as they hid the piece of paper.

'Geeze, Meggie!' Sirius exclaimed, a hand over his heart as the boys peered at me. 'Don't _do _that!'

'Do what? Greet you?' I retorted dryly, a smile tugging at my lips. It was obvious they were up to some sort of mischief, and to be quite frank, I didn't really want to get into any more trouble with the professors. Hear no evil, see no evil, speak no evil, that was my philosophy.

'Say Meg, you've been around outside a bit, right?' James asked suddenly, making me blink at him in question. 'Yeah… I guess. Why?'

'Well, we were wondering about the Whomping Willow. What's the deal with it?'

My breath caught in my throat. 'Oh, er, I think it's just a freak tree. You know, the magic around here probably maddened it, or something…'

I silently congratulated myself on that lie, as James and Sirius both nodded in agreement.

As if I didn't have enough to do, tutoring Peter, _being _tutored by Remus, associating with boys on a daily basis, which at eleven brought you quite a bit of attention (mostly in the form of 'oooOOOhh, is it your _boyfrieeeend_?') – now James and Sirius had taken to dragging Remus, Peter and I down to the Quidditch fields at random intervals to _teach us Quidditch_.

Inner Megaera and I were firm in the belief that they just wanted to completely and utterly humiliate me and my sense of balance. I voiced this opinion one day, and Sirius actually fell off his broom laughing.

He had to be rushed to the Hospital Wing upon landing on his wrist.

We sat there, muddy and sweaty (well, _I _wasn't sweaty, since I hadn't carried Sirius through half the castle, but I was the only one with mud all over my robes, thanks to the many times I'd overbalanced and fallen shrieking off my broom), listening to Madam Pomfrey lecturing us and telling us how lucky it was that Sirius hadn't broken something (he'd be up and hopping after an hour, apparently).

'We're mapping the castle.' James announced, leisurely stretching in his chair.

I contemplated running for it – hear no mischief, get into no trouble, remaining un-expelled, remember? – but making a map hardly seemed like a punishable crime, so I stayed, warily eyeing the two black-haired boys.

'We could need some help,' Sirius continued, sipping on his potion.

'You lot free this weekend?' James finished, smiling innocently and looking far too cute with his bright hazel eyes and scruffy mane of hair.

'Yeah!' Peter answered enthusiastically for us. I looked at Remus, who shrugged and smiled. Yeah, everyone thought Remus to be all innocent and un-mischief-ish, I thought, narrowing my eyes at him, but I knew better.

Oh well. A weekend spent mapping a castle with spirited and funny friends should be fun, right?

**Wrong**.

Saturday at eight in the morning, someone was yelling up my dormitory stairs. Half-awake, I didn't realise until everyone else had woken up that the voices were shouting 'Meggie! Meg! HELLO! ARE YOU AWAKE?!'.

With a growing sense of impending doom, I shot out of my bed, hoping against hope that Lily Evans hadn't woken up.

Alas, no such luck.

A pair of emerald green eyes peered at me. I gulped. God knows Lily wasn't a morning person.

'Megaera, what the hell is going on?' She rasped, brain to fuzzy to link me with the people yelling my name and extract some terrible revenge on me. _Yet_.

'It's a dream!' I babbled, rushing for the stairs and hissing 'shut the _hell up_! I'm coming! Idiots!' down them. This quietened the voices, if only because I'd cussed at them. Spinning around, I dashed into the bathroom and did an impressive high-speed shower, before getting dressed, brushing my hair haphazardly and hurrying down to the common room.

'Why on earth are you waking me up at eight in the morning!' Was my greeting upon seeing my friends. 'Do you have any _idea_ that I live with other people, not all of whom are morning persons? Hmm? You inconsiderate wads of cheese!'

Okay, I had no idea where that last insult came from. Neither, apparently, had the boys.

'_Wads of cheese_?' Repeated Sirius, looking incredulously amused.

'Oh, be quiet.' I snapped, stomping off to breakfast before I could get embarrassed for yelling at my only friends and calling them inconsiderate wads of cheese.

* * *

_Okay, chapter number four finally published! yay_

_-Roo._


	5. First Year Gone

_Author's Note: This is sort of a filler, really. Not very long. Enjoy._

* * *

'I'm thinking we start with the dungeon, and split up so we'll cover more ground.' James then proceeded to detail how one should map a castle, with a maniacal glint in his eye. It was all pretty complicated, and I wasn't particularly looking forward to mapping something myself. There seemed to be a lot to look out for. This mapping thing raised a great deal of questions, mostly from Remus, who hadn't learned that where James and Sirius were concerned, you shoved everything into the I Don't Want To Know column. 'Why _are_ we mapping Hogwarts, anyway?' the sandy-haired boy asked, accepting a pen and some parchment from James. 'We,' Sirius indicated to James and himself, 'are making a map.' This, he seemed to be under the impression of, explained it all. 'Of course,' James continued, 'we have great plans for this map, plans we won't be able to set into action until our later years, but we figure we should start the groundwork while we're young.' This indicated a lot of things, one of which disconcerted me more than the rest – what on earth would James and Sirius want to do with a map that they couldn't do until _their later years_? It had to include magic. Why did they want to charm a map? I shoved all this into my I Don't Want To Know But All Will Probably Be Revealed column, and began reflecting on how many billion years it would take to map the whole of Hogwarts. James and Sirius had done a quick sketch of the dungeons, now used to show us our positions. 'Here, Peter, you'll be mapping _this _area, to the south.'

I blinked, eyeing the areas we'd been given. 'But James, you forgot a spot,' I pointed to the blank area with no name on it. 'Who'll be mapping there?'

Sirius patted my hair absentmindedly, like one would a silly younger sibling. 'Darling,' he drawled in his well-bred manner. 'That area's the Slytherin common room area. We'll map that at night. In a group.'

Okay, I had to ask just this one question. 'How do you know where the Slytherin common room is?'

James smiled. Sirius smiled. I snatched my assigned area and ran.

It was tedious work, mapping the dungeons. My eyes hurt after a few hours (yes, _hours_) of scribbling down stupid hallways and idiotic paintings and moronic ornaments. I also had to poke and check everything behind and under and over for secret passageways. So far I had found none, though this wasn't to say there weren't any. I prodded a loose brick with my toe – I wanted to be thorough since James had decided we'd all be double-checking each other's work later on (I'd been given Peter's patch and James, the maniac, had been given mine. I had a horrible feeling he'd go after me with a Quaffle if I missed anything vital). I wondered why I was doing this excruciatingly boring work for someone I hardly knew, and the answer came almost immediately. For the same reason I tutored Peter with infinite patience, the same reason I never told Remus exactly where he could stuff his schoolbooks – friendship. They'd saved me from a depression no eleven-year-old should have, by befriending me. I doubted anything I did would ever repay them, not really. The least I could do was map a stupid castle, even if I hardly knew what it was for. With a small smile, I resumed my work.

--

James collected our finished mappings with the air of a general collecting top-secret reports detailing extremely important enemy movements. With a flourish, they disappeared inside his robes. 'Thank you, loyal friends, for accompanying me and Sirius on this voyage – '

'Thanks, guys,' Sirius said, hastily cutting across James' dramatics.

'Yeah, no problem,' I muttered, tugging poor impressionable Peter away from the maniac known as James Potter, who was still rambling.

The next few months passed without much incident. I didn't blow up any wands, though I did explode a few potions and one cauldron, and the feather I was supposed to levitate somehow crashed through the classroom ceiling, like a little missile. Professor Flitwick mumbled something about how I at least lifted the feather off the desk now, and added something about explosive magic, which gave me the creeps three nights running – the Sorting Hat's words still very much alive in my head.

…_You have an unusual ailment…_

_...Unusual ailment… _

What the hell did that mean, anyway? If the stupid hat couldn't tell me what _ailment _I had, why did it have to bring it up at all? Except to freak me out, which it did superbly. I didn't get much sleep the nights my thoughts strayed to the Hat's words, but I was young and balanced a few sleepless nights easily on top of my horrible achievements at school and general loser-ness. Now don't get me wrong, I was happier than I'd been since the start of term, which seemed like a lifetime ago. Sirius and James hadn't left our little group when we'd finished mapping the dungeons, as Remus had suspected with his cynic little werewolf mind. Instead, they'd rather become the leaders, taking us, the peaky sandy-haired boy who ate yucky-looking raw meat, the chubby forgotten follower, and the half-foreign catastrophe, under their wings. I got a lot less nasty looks and exasperated sighs these days, and the poor soul I'd been paired off with in Herbology with didn't look as apprehensive as I'd thought she would. Sirius sitting on the table next to us, occasionally commenting on something to me, proved to be a good distraction for the sour girl.

I'd never been happier or more depressed in my life. It was a strange, almost sickening mix.

I was happy because I had friends here for the first time – good friends, too. It almost didn't matter that they were all boys, so there were things I wasn't yet comfortable enough to discuss with them (like the fact that I'd gotten my period over Christmas, at only eleven!), and I knew there were things they weren't comfortable enough to discuss with me, either. When I'd known them for longer, I'd probably feel comfortable enough to embarrass them with talks of cramps (I got violently painful cramps for a day when I had my period, at which point I could be seen staggering to the Hospital Wing for some medication), and they, in turn, would feel comfortable enough to embarrass me with whatever it was boys did.

Happy because I felt like I mattered to them, like I could help them in ways others couldn't. Our roles in each other's lives weren't very defined after only months of friendship, but I thought I could see mine, sketched faintly somewhere in our hierarchy. I liked to think of myself as someone who understood people – my reason for whishing to become a psychologist, after all. Sirius often acted as a big brother to us, chasing away those who taunted Peter, and standing up for Remus when someone mocked his sickly form. James liked to think of himself as a rebel, and he was rather spoiled, but I noticed he liked it when someone fussed over him not wearing enough clothes or asking whether or not he'd done all his homework. Since I was the only one who knew about Remus' lycanthrope, I was also the only one who knew the problems it brought. Remus had rather low self-esteem (higher than mine, but still), and needed to be showered with unconditional friendship and love on a daily basis. Peter simply needed attention. I figured my role was giving them what they deserved, for the gave me so much in return. I had become more outgoing, even joining in a friendly banter with my dorm-mates one evening, lending Lily one of my books (called _Twilight_, a cheesy vampire romance that just about filled my yearly quota of fluff), and sassing my sour Herbology partner when she blamed me for her ruining her own plant.

Depressed because, underneath, the catastrophe that was me attempting magic always lurked, forced out into the open for everyone to see on a daily basis. It was embarrassing, and every time I failed spectacularly, something in me died. I'd spend the evenings altering from crying over my failures and grinning over Peter's resent A in our test on trolls (okay, so it was barely a passing grade, but still! I was very proud – of myself and him). Pathetic, wallowing in misery, but I couldn't help it. Wallowing in misery was so much easier than say, doing something about it. Asking a professor what the hell was wrong with me, for instance, something I should have done, I realise now, a lot sooner than I did.

_Oh well_, I thought as the train pulled out of Hogsmeade station. _My first year at Hogwarts – completed. _

_Yup. Meggie's first year at Hoggie, completed. How exciting... --_'

_-Roo._


	6. Fourth Year

_Author's Note : Short chapther. Sorry for the wait. I've got exams coming up. Oh god 'm gonna die. _

* * *

Steam billowed from the train on Platform Nine and Three Quarters. After four years, my parents still hadn't got used to this, and were gasping and pointing enthusiastically.

'Yeah. Bye, Mum. Bye, Dad.' I muttered absentmindedly, my eyes sweeping the platform for my friends.

At thirteen years old – going on fourteen – I was in my parents-are-annoying-and-embarrassing phase. This only encouraged my parents to drown me in goodbye hugs and kisses.

'_Hoot_!' Something large and brown landed on my head, claws scarping against my skull, making me squeal and run around in circles in an effort to dislodge it.

''Ditch! 'Ditch! Careful!' someone yelled, and the pressure on my cranium lifted as what I now recognized as James' owl Quidditch took off from my head with another baleful hoot.

'Hi Meggie, thought we'd never find you!' Sirius exclaimed, waving at my stunned parents and enveloping me in a hug. 'Good thing James thought of sending an owl for you!'

Sirius Black had grown even more over the summer - he was now taller than me by a couple of inches. He'd grown his hair out, as well, letting it flap over his grey eyes in a rather roguish way.

James Potter hadn't grown much, but he was taller than me, albeit barely. In my younger years I'd despaired at the thought of being so much taller than the average boy, but now I found myself pouting at the prospect of craning my head to look at them.

Remus Lupin was the most horrifying of all. He'd freaking shot in the air! I think the top of my head reached his chin or something ludicrous like that. Talk about growth-spurt. Other than that, the werewolf hadn't changed much – still pallid and sick-looking, still with large amber eyes and sandy-brown hair.

Thankfully, I was still marginally taller than Peter. He'd gotten a bit chubbier over the summer holidays, but this was expected. He'd whine and groan about his "fatness" (I still insisted it was baby-fat) until I persuaded James to take him and Sirius training, which gave me time to study and Remus time to fret over the fact that his other friends were _this _close to discovering his secret. Personally, I rather thought James and Sirius had figured it out already, and Sirius had convinced James to wait until Remus told them of his own free will, which wasn't going to happen, no matter how much he trusted and cared for them. He certainly wouldn't have told me if it wasn't for Madame Pomfrey letting it slip.

Apart from Quidditch nearly ripping all my hair out, I was glad to see them again. Sirius had been holed up at his house all summer, diligently working on protecting his younger brother Regulus from his cousin Bellatrix's clutches. This would have been a lot easier, he told me in one of his infrequent letters, if one of Regulus' best friends Evan hadn't already been promised as a Death Eater and his other best friend Lysandra would get her head out of the clouds for long enough to intervene when Bellatrix lurked around the Slytherin trio. James had unwittingly agreed to help his mother and father plan his aunt's fiftieth birthday, which had taken half the summer. The other half he spent over at Peter's (only because Peter had his very attractive, red-haired Cousin Allie visiting). Remus didn't like going anywhere on holidays, for obvious reasons, and his father didn't feel comfortable letting a girl into the house (apparently girls were prone to screaming and calling the police when people turned into werewolves). Peter had been busy protecting James from an irate Cousin Allie, who did not appreciate being "harassed" by a thirteen-year-old.

I'd been on holiday to Norway for three weeks, visiting my sister, nephew and niece and scaring my brother-in-law, who thought I was going to slaughter their cat and perform some weird ritual with its blood. I told him I preferred human blood. Especially male.

Hogwarts was the same as ever – huge, dark and slightly forbidding. Still, it was practically our second home, and I couldn't wait for another year of failures and blown-up cauldrons. Note the sarcasm. On the other hand, I was with my friends. Also, even though I knew this was cowardly and rather un-Gryffindor of me, I was relieved to be safe at Hogwarts, after all the muggleborn killings that had been reported for months now. Apparently some freak-weirdo with a freak-weirdo name decided to do a Hitler and start "purging the earth". Honestly, you'd think we were quite over that stage in history.

As I stared at the new first-years getting Sorted, I couldn't help feeling that something big was coming – something not altogether good. It was the kind of chilling feeling that wouldn't go away, that lurked in some dark recess of your mind until you were alone, then it jumped at you in full force. Peering around at the solemn and sombre faces of classmates and teachers alike, I feared I wasn't the only one.

_Mwah. Angst. _

_-Roo. _


End file.
